


Our Own World

by TessellateOcean



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 15:45:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18346727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TessellateOcean/pseuds/TessellateOcean
Summary: Draco believes he's called it off for the last time with Harry...but Harry clearly hasn't gotten the message. He thinks all Draco needs is a bit more convincing. And Draco has the inconvenient suspicion that he just might be right.





	Our Own World

It was another rainy Tuesday in February. The castle grounds looked dreary from any window one cared to look out at them from, the lighting was dim and gray, the students inside burdened down by heaps of late-term coursework. Draco had just finished a morning of double Charms. He was coming down from the fifth floor of the East wing, not thinking about anything in particular except getting a hot lunch in the Great Hall, until he rounded the corner of the last flight of stairs and saw who was apparently waiting for him there at the bottom. He narrowed his eyes and let out a pinched sigh of frustration.

“I told you we’re not doing this anymore,” he hissed in a low voice as soon as he drew close enough to the boy who stood there, the boy who was leaning casually against the polished banister’s end, long fingers curling around the knob that capped it, grinning up at him mischievously.

“You keep saying that, don’t you,” the boy said, not even bothering to hide his satisfaction.

“I mean it this time, Potter!” Draco said, his whisper nearly cracking into audible range in his irritation. He looked around furiously, disbelieving that the other boy could be so brazen as to approach him in such a well-trafficked place, where they ran such a high risk of being seen together.

“Oooh, ‘Potter,’ is it now?” Harry laughed. He dropped his voice suggestively. “That’s not what you were calling me in that empty classroom last time.” He winked.

“I can’t believe you’d come up to me here!” Draco kept glancing around him, walking quickly and keeping close to the wall, avoiding eye contact with any of the students they were passing. “I told you, stay away from me!”

If Harry wasn’t outright enjoying Draco’s consternation, he was at the least completely unconcerned by it. “Really, I think you and I want the same thing here, Draco,” he said languidly. “You don’t want anyone to see us together—and neither do I. I want to get you alone and have you all to myself, you naughty boy.” He barred his teeth and then gave a playful snap.

They were nearing the end of the corridor that opened onto the Great Hall. Draco was feeling increasingly desperate. There was no way he could enter the Great Hall with Harry and go unobserved. And if and when people noted the odd coupling, tongues would wag. The way Harry was dogging him, he knew no matter where he went off to in the castle Harry would be at his heels cajoling him all the way, might even deliberately cause a scene for all Draco knew. He certainly didn’t seem to care about discretion, despite Draco’s escalating attempts to tamp down his behavior by means of pleading, threats, and finally, now, avoidance.

“The classroom. Now,” Draco growled, hating himself for not being able to outmaneuver, but seeing no other choice. His irritation piqued as Harry’s face immediately broke into an expression of victorious glee.

“Your wish is my command,” Harry replied, practically purring.

They went up the back stairwell. As soon as they’d rounded the first set of stairs and were out of view from the corridor, Harry reached for Draco’s hand, interweaving their fingers. Draco shook his hand away huffily, even as he felt his heart begin to pound a little at the familiar warmth in the other boy’s skin. He was sick of Harry never listening to him, never staying away, always coming back to him in increasingly flagrant ways, increasingly jeopardizing the secrecy of this thing they had going, increasingly drawing them closer to the crosshairs of the public gossip mill and inter-house outrage machine. The only solution was to somehow make Harry see that he meant what he said. But how? Harry clearly didn’t believe him. And deep down, so deep he would never admit it, he wasn’t sure if he believed himself, either.

They slipped into the abandoned classroom, currently used as a storage space for piles of desks and chairs. Harry directed his wand at one of the chairs and made it slide in front of the door, blocking the jamb and the handle. He sat back on top of the long desk at the front of the classroom, eyes drinking in Draco hungrily.

“Rainy days make it so cozy inside, don’t you think?” he said silkily.

 “Harry,” Draco said with a deep breath, willing himself to sound convincing. “Listen to me. I don’t want to do this anymore. It’s gotten too risky. _You’re_ too risky. It’s not worth it.”

“What are you so afraid of?” Harry said, his tone light but unmistakably serious.  

“You know what!” Draco gritted his teeth, unable to meet Harry’s eyes.

“The Slytherins? I don’t see any of them in here,” said Harry, pretending to look around. “We’re alone. It’s just you and me.”

 Draco scoffed. “You know that’s not how it works! We don’t live in here. We live out there, in the world!” He gestured impatiently to the door.

“But we could, you know,” Harry said quietly.

“What are you talking about?”

“We could live like this. But out there.” He leaned forward slowly and caught Draco by the wrist.  

He was looking at Draco so directly, so openly, that Draco could feel that familiar feeling that Harry always wrought within him, all his resolve coming crumbling down. He felt himself on a knife’s edge, anger threatening to spill over into something else.

“You’re all I need, Draco,” Harry said. “I don’t care about anything else. Right here—you’re my world.”

 He took hold of both Draco’s hands that Draco had been holding at his sides, interlacing their fingers, forming a bridge between their bodies.

Draco felt the muffled sob sticking in the back of his throat, the tears threatening to press their way out. “But I’m not like you, like that,” Draco got out, trying as hard as he could to keep his voice steady. “I…I…” he took a deep breath. “I _care_.”  He hated himself for admitting it aloud. But he had to keep Harry away from him, for good.

Harry studied him for a moment, quiet, apparently considering something. “Alright then,” he said at last. Draco looked up, from where he’d been fixating on the floorboards. Had Harry really given up so easily?

Harry met his eyes directly. “I’ll just have to give you something else to care about more.”

He pulled Draco into him, to where he was sitting on the desk, wrapping him in his arms tightly. Draco knew this was the true test, that this was the moment when he needed to push Harry away and walk out the door. Just keep walking, down the corridor, down the stairs, down another corridor and into the Great Hall, take a seat at the Slytherin table, laugh with his mates, act like nothing was amiss and, soon enough, nothing would be. The surest way to never get over Harry was to never leave him to begin with. Now was his chance to end it all.

Harry softly rubbed his back, massaging him almost, and then began to work his hands upwards, to his shoulders, to his neck, until finally he was cradling his head. He drew back from Draco a little, just far enough for them to meet eyes, and then pulled him in for a long kiss.

With his eyes closed, Draco was all sensory. He could listen to the rain running down the windows, could feel the warmth of Harry’s chest pressed against his, the lips and the tongue that was softly probing his own. Harry running his hands through his hair, his own hands on Harry’s firm waist, Harry’s clean scent that he always forgot about until he smelled it on Harry again.

Draco would have hated to have to admit it, but Harry had gotten it right: at least in this moment, he wasn’t caring. There was so much else to think about, to focus one’s attention on, that there was no space left for trivial concerns of care.

He opened his eyes. Harry’s hair was a little tussled from where Draco had raked his fingers through it, the line of his mouth was serious and focused, and his eyes were heavy and clearly aroused.

Draco’s overwhelming need of a moment earlier, to get out of this situation, had already waxed ridiculous. Who cared now how he’d feel about all of it later; this moment had clearly only one purpose, and clearly just one correct course of action.

Draco took hold of the lapels of Harry’s robe and pulled them back. Harry smirked and leaned forward compliantly, shrugging the fabric off. Harry reached forward and began working at Draco’s shirt buttons, undoing them with one hand as the other reached in the growing opening to take in Draco’s bare chest. When he’d finished with the buttons, he pulled back both the shirt and Draco’s robe in one motion, letting it all fall off Draco’s shoulders into a heap on the floor. Draco pulled Harry’s shirt out from where it was tucked in, slipping his hand down his trousers as he did so. Harry grinned. Draco couldn’t help but grin back, feeling how hard Harry was in his hand.

Harry stood up from the desk and they both quickly took off their shoes, socks, trousers, and all the rest, piling them on one of the nearby desks. In wordless understanding, they each grabbed hold of an end and together lifted one of the long desks stacked against the wall, bringing it in line with the desk at the front of the room. They clambered up onto the desks together, Harry fitting his body between Draco’s legs, lying down on top of him.

“Mhmm,” Harry breathed in Draco’s ear. He arched himself over Draco a little. “You’re so hard.”

Draco laughed softly. “You too.”

Harry laughed. “So what was it that you were calling me earlier? ‘Potter,’ hmm?”

“I don’t remember that,” said Draco, in mock innocence.

“No?” purred Harry. “Well then. I guess I’ll just have to jog your memory somehow.”

“Oh?” said Draco, cock twitching impatiently as Harry stroked his chest.

“Oh yes, Mr. Malfoy,” said Harry.

He lowered his head down Draco’s torso, dragging his tongue the length of him, until he was poised over Draco’s cock.

“I’m afraid you’re leaking, Mr. Malfoy,” Harry said in a posh accent, pretending to inspect something. Draco was in fact leaking, finding it harder and harder to concentrate on what Harry was saying. Harry licked Draco’s tip lightly, and Draco quivered at the sensation. “Luckily for you, I know just the fix.”

“Mhmm,” said Draco, head tilted back, eyes shut, as Harry licked, kissed, nibbled, sucked lightly but not enough, toying with him.

“But I’m going to need something from you, in exchange for my services,” Harry continued, bringing his hand up underneath Draco to play with the base of his spine, tripping his fingers lightly over the skin.

“Mhmm,” Draco mumbled incoherently.

Harry pulled himself up from where he’d been at Draco’s waist, all the way to his ear. “I’m going to need you to apologize for being so formal in your name-calling with me earlier. And then I’m going to need you to beg for it,” he whispered. He licked the rim of Draco’s ear in a quick darting motion that made Draco moan, and then he gave a little tug on the earlobe with his teeth.

He pulled himself back down to Draco’s cock and took it in one hand, rubbing it gently between two fingers. His other hand snaked around underneath, sliding between Draco’s cheeks. Draco inhaled sharply.

“Yes,” he got out, panting. “Do it….”

“Ah-ah…I’ll need a little more than that first,” tutted Harry, beginning to flick Draco’s tip now. “Weren’t you calling me ‘Potter’ earlier, on the stairs?”

“No,” said Draco, panting heavily, staring up at the ceiling trying to concentrate. “Definitely not.”

Harry brought his wet lips around the head of Draco’s cock, sucking gently in and out, flashing his tongue along the tip, as his other hand worked Draco’s backside, running his finger along his rim with a touch so light it was making Draco contract.

Harry paused for a moment. He tickled Draco’s neck just below his ear. “Have I jogged your memory yet?”

“N…n….n…no,” Draco got out.

Harry’s back finger slipped in a little higher.

“Yes!” Draco cried out. His chest heaved. He found his breath. “M—maybe.”

“Not—good—enough,” drawled Harry. In a flash, he turned Draco over, straddling his backside. He spread his cheeks and slipped his tongue where his finger had been. Draco whimpered.

“Ah!”

“Say it,” Harry commanded.

“Fine!” Draco shouted. “I called you ‘Potter’ before!”

Harry slipped his tongue in again. Draco’s back arched violently.

“And?”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Draco wiped the sweat from his forehead that was dripping into his eyes. “Jesus…”

“Yes, I think we’re close enough that calling me ‘Harry’ is appropriate,” Harry said thoughtfully. He cupped Draco’s hole and licked it in long circles, Draco bucking underneath him in rhythm.

“Please…Harry…!” Draco slurred, exhaling rapidly.

Harry paused. “I’m listening.”

Draco gritted his teeth. “Suck me out!”

Harry smiled smugly. “My pleasure.”

He turned Draco over again so that he was on his back, and then went down on him with gusto, taking him deep into his throat, in and out rhythmically, steadying his hands on Draco’s hips. He was leaking himself, rock hard against the table’s surface.

At last Draco jerked and came inside him, moaning, eyes rolling back into his head, hands clenching in Harry’s hair. Harry swallowed and wiped his mouth off, and then looking up at Draco, leaning back in ecstasy, chest shining with sweat, panting with exertion, felt himself pushed over the edge. He moaned and shuddered as the tingling electricity flooded him, pushing heat out over his whole body. He collapsed onto Draco, all borders distinguishing their bodies gone.

When they had finally caught their breath, they met each other’s eyes and laughed softly, giddily.

“God, I missed you so much,” Draco said, stroking Harry’s cheek with his hand.

“It was, what, three weeks?” said Harry. He planted a soft kiss on Draco’s shoulder.

“Was it really?” Draco said wonderingly. “It felt like years.” He paused. “I really didn’t think I would ever see you again.”

“Never? What about in Potions?” Harry gave a short laugh, but it was clearly forced, his voice tight.

Draco shook his head slowly. “You know… Like this.” He pulled Harry in closer to him. “I told myself if I didn’t see you, I would be able to move on.” He shrugged wryly. “What a stupid thought that was. Why was I taking all the back routes around the school, purposely going everywhere I knew you wouldn’t be? Who was I trying so hard to avoid glancing over at, every meal time and every Potions lesson? Who was I wanking off to every single night?”

Harry gave a low chuckle, pleased. “That’s pretty hot.” He met Draco’s eyes. “And now?”

“What do you mean?”

“What comes now?” Harry asked.

Draco exhaled. “I’m done with it,” he said simply. “I’m done pretending that I can just push you away. Clearly, I can’t.” He turned and kissed Harry softly. “I don’t want to.”

They lay in silence, eyes closed, feeling their hearts beating together, chests rising and falling in spent contentment, listening to the sound of the rain.

Finally Draco sat up slowly. “Lunch must be nearly over by now. I’m starving.” He transfigured himself a towel from a piece of scrap parchment and cleaned himself off, and then cleaned the towel off with a spell and tossed it to Harry. Harry dried himself off as he watched Draco get dressed.

“And what about all of them?” Harry asked quietly.

“What do you mean?” said Draco, distracted, lacing up his boots.

Harry glanced toward the locked door. “Them. Out there.”

Draco didn’t reply. He combed through his hair with his fingers and straightened his tie. “Come on.”

Harry stood up and began pulling on his own clothes, looking away. He waved a quick cleaning spell over the desk, and then met Draco by the door. Draco pulled aside the chair they’d blocked the door with, and Harry followed him down the corridor and down the stairs, neither speaking or looking at the other, the distance seeming to widen between them with every step.

When they got to the end of the corridor, about to turn into the Great Hall, Draco finally stopped. Harry was looking away, trying to hide his face, but Draco could see the knot of hurt in his brow. Draco gently touched his shoulder, then took his chin in his hand and turned his face to meet his own. He looked Harry full in the eyes and gave him a tight smile.

Wordlessly, he reached out and took Harry’s hand in his own. He smiled more broadly as Harry’s eyes widened in surprise and his cheeks flushed.

“Really?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Draco said simply.

Hand in hand, they walked into the Great Hall together.


End file.
